Prelude
Prelude
An ancient civilization called the Shrouded Occult sought to rule the world. Brilliant, cunning, and far ahead of their time in both science and invention, they viewed anyone outside their cult as inferior, expendable, unworthy. Their ambition knew no bounds—so when they discovered a portal to ultimate power, they stopped at nothing to control it.
They built a massive facility around the portal, studying it day and night. All the ingredients for its activation were in place—except four. They needed creatures of legend: a Dire Wolf, a Phoenix, a Dragon, and a Juggernaut spirit. In the year 2014, these were considered impossible to obtain. Mythical. Pure fantasy.
For years, the cult despaired. But then, a breakthrough: the portal had been opened before, long ago. If it had been possible once, perhaps it could be done again.
They scoured history, myth, and legend, searching for traces of the creatures—finding nothing. Frustration twisted their minds; the leader of the Occult seethed at the thought that the portal’s vast power might forever remain beyond his grasp. Yet the portal’s presence was undeniable. Its hum vibrated through the air, a constant, beckoning pulse. Every day, every year, their obsession deepened, warping them into something more deranged, more dangerous.
Then came discovery. A dusty, ancient book, initially mistaken for a tome of spells. But it was something far darker: a book of mutations. Within its pages lay the methods of the ancients, instructions for creating the mythical creatures themselves. The ancients had not hunted these beasts—they had made them.
Horrified and fascinated in equal measure, the Shrouded Occult embraced the knowledge. At the back of the book were samples: hair, skin, feathers, scales—the very ingredients they had sought for decades. But the portal demanded more than matter. It demanded souls. Not just any souls, but exceptional, pure ones: children of extraordinary intellect and latent psychic abilities.
With the modern world at their fingertips, the cult could finally identify their targets. They kidnapped hundreds of children, stealing them from their homes, exploiting gaps in the world’s defenses. Cameras, alerts, and security mattered little to the Occult; no obstacle could slow their obsession.
The experiments were brutal. Children were tortured and injected with serums designed to unlock the mythical genes. Many perished. Those who survived twisted into something otherworldly—stronger, faster, sharper, angrier. Their faces contorted, bones shifted, and instincts sharpened. Most males were infused with the Dire Wolf gene, females with the Phoenix. Only a few endured the Juggernaut spirit or the Dragon gene.
Whispers spread among the children: the most powerful were kept separate, isolated in hidden cells. And one special child—the perfect vessel—was rumored to carry all four genes: wolf, phoenix, dragon, and juggernaut. The Occult had found him.
When the cult finally attempted to activate the portal, they did not anticipate rebellion. The children, now young adults and fully transformed, fought back. The portal cracked open, but its promise of power remained unrealized. Instead, it vomited forth monsters: twisted, violent, unpredictable creatures, some two-legged, some four-legged, all with claws and fangs.
The monsters slaughtered many Occult members, forcing the survivors to flee. The mutants, fangs bared, confronted the beasts, driving some back—but not all. The portal snapped shut, leaving countless monsters free to spread into forests and nearby cities.
The world outside the facility descended into chaos. The monsters multiplied with terrifying speed, and the human population dwindled. The mutants attempted to hunt the creatures during the day, but humans panicked at the sight of their fangs, their claws, their inhuman forms. The mutants adapted: they only hunted at night.
Eventually, humanity realized that their only hope lay in the mutants. Desperate, they sought sanctuary in the city the Occult had built—a sprawling, fortified metropolis, the only home the mutants had ever known. After initial hesitation, the mutants allowed them in.
And so, the uneasy alliance began, with humans relying on those they once feared, while the monsters outside continued to multiply, and the remnants of the Shrouded Occult lingered in the shadows, still whispering of ultimate power. And so it began.
